


The Save-A-Sidekick Rescue Mission

by MissMoochy



Series: MissMoochy's FebuWhump 2021 Oneshots [9]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Buried Alive, FebuWhump2021, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, POV Alternating, Rescue Missions, Team Red (Marvel) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29512350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoochy/pseuds/MissMoochy
Summary: FebuWhump 2021 Day 9: [Buried Alive]A mysterious villain tells Spider-Man, Deadpool and Daredevil that he has stolen one of their companions. But who has he taken? Can Team Red work together and find the hapless victim before it's too late?
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Series: MissMoochy's FebuWhump 2021 Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136714
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	The Save-A-Sidekick Rescue Mission

Peter glanced around the room and then settled his gaze on the steaming plate of food in front of him. “This is nice!” 

“You said this place looked like a dump from the outside.”

“Wade, shut up,” he hissed.

“I can hear you,” Matt reminded them. He hadn’t been friends with Spider-Man and Deadpool for very long, and sometimes, they forgot the range of his powers.

“Creep,” Wade said, but he meant no harm. That was just how he spoke.

“I didn’t mean it. I don’t think it’s a dump. Hell’s Kitchen is kind of nice. It’s got a certain charm.”

“It’s okay, you can say it’s a dump,” he told them, smiling. He’d taken them to a small, hole-in-the-wall place that he often visited with Foggy. Peter was tucking into a jacket potato with melted cheese and baked beans. Wade was noisily devouring a burger and fries. Matt was having pasta. He liked this place because they actually used fresh ingredients and (more importantly) exercised excellent hygiene. He would have known if they hadn’t. There was a reason he refused to eat in McDonald’s! He was privy to a lot of hidden tastes and smells and eating in restaurants could be challenging. And besides, this restaurant often purchased ingredients from Nelson’s Meats, so he was helping Foggy’s family business by dining here.

Wade’s phone rang — some tinny pop song that Matt didn’t recognise.

“You brought your Deadpool phone? Ugh,”

“What’s his Deadpool phone?” Matt asked him wiping his mouth on his napkin. He was still learning new things about these guys, but they came as a double act. Peter was incredibly intelligent, a genius. He was quick-witted with a good sense of humour. Wade was erratic, funny and pretty unpredictable. But there was something charming about him. He didn’t care what anybody thought of him, and Matt respected that.

“It’s the phone he uses for his gigs. When his friend, Weasel, has a job for him. When other vigilantes call and need his help. And he’s owned a few businesses. Deadpool Inc. Oh, but that’s _right!_ That business folded, didn’t it?”

“There was a lot of confusion,” Wade said, without shame. “I knew I should have attended that business seminar in Quantico. I never had a head for business.”

“You don’t have a head for anything,” Peter muttered.

“Go ahead, answer it,”

But Wade shook his head. “It’s not a call, it’s a text message. Oh, it’s a video message.”

He clicked a button and a musical voice filled the room.

Greetings, Deadpool, Spider-Man, Daredevil.”

“Turn down the volume!” Matt whispered, and Wade hurriedly complied. He popped his earphone jack in the phone’s slot and popped one of the earphones in his ear. Peter received the other. Matt didn’t need them, he could still hear the message perfectly.

“It’s Arcade,” Wade whispered. Peter shushed him.

“Word is, you’ve been quite the trio, keeping our streets safe. Kudos. I had such a lovely time with you, Deadpool and Spider-Man, in Murderworld. You liked my games, didn’t you? I think it’s time we let Daredevil play…”

“Who’s Arcade? What’s Murderworld?”

“He’s a lunatic,” Peter said. “He’s rich but he’s evil. He has this place called Murderworld, it’s like a theme park but it kills you, he kidnaps people—”

“Shut up, Webs, I missed what he said. Let me pull it back—”

“—ime we let Daredevil play. All three of you have allies. People who you can rely on and go to for assistance. A friend. Somebody you love. I have obtained someone very dear to one of you. He’s currently in an underground location in New York. Right now, he’s comfortable, but if you fail to find him, well...you can imagine his fate. I’ll be sending you clues as to who he is and where you can find him. Watch this space. I’ve already given you your first clue: your missing friend is male. Oh, and Deadpool? If you try to find _me_ , I’ll cut the poor fellow open. Good day.”

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Absorbing the information. Matt was reeling. That awful, flutey voice still echoed in his ears. Peter and Wade sat calmly enough, but their pounding hearts betrayed them. Finally, Wade spoke.

“Okay. What the _fuck?”_

“Replay it.”

“What’s the point? We’ve already seen it once. We need to act! They’ve got one of our buddies!”

“Yeah, and we know nothing. We need more info. Replay the freaking video, Wade!”

“Do it, Wade, maybe we missed something,” Matt ordered.

They sat there, listening to the same words. Although the voice was unfamiliar to him, Matt recognised the malice. That sort of cruel glee was universal. It was the voice of the Kingpin. It was the voice of The Green Goblin. And now, it was a new enemy. Arcade.

“He’s got one of our friends,” Peter said slowly. “And if we don’t find them…”

“Yeah.”

Peter pushed his plate away. Lukewarm potato and cheese. The smell made Matt nauseous. “Okay. So. I’ll address the elephant in the room. Who has he got?”

“Well...at least I know he hasn’t got you,” Wade said. Peter made a sound, something soft, gentle. “For me, it could be — I don’t have many — maybe Cable? But he can handle himself. Could be my buddy, Weasel, he runs a bar for mercs.”

“If he’s kidnapped a guy, it’s not MJ or my aunt, thank God. Could be Johnny? Or — maybe my boss? J Jameson? It doesn’t sound like Arcade knows who we really are. He would have used our names. He would have gloated.”

“Yeah, he would have. That’s his style.”

“Matt, who do you have in your life? Who could Arcade have taken?”

Foggy. Just. Foggy.

He clenched his hands on the table. He said the word so softly, as if it was something sacred. “Foggy. My friend. Foggy Nelson.”

“Okay,” Peter said gently. “Well, we’ll figure out who’s been taken and we’ll keep everybody safe.”

But it was like a dam had burst, some huge pressure shifted in his chest and suddenly, he was drowning. He pushed back his chair and leapt up, earning confused mutters from the other customers. He felt deranged, unbalanced, he grabbed the table to steady him. “We can’t sit around! If he’s got him, if he’s taken Foggy, we have — we have to—”

Peter was on his feet in an instant, rushing to Matt’s side. “I know. And we will! I promise! But we have to make a plan—”

“No plans! We need to get him back! Peter, you don’t understand, I can’t lose him. Not _him_ . Not now. There was so much — and he, he keeps me human. If I don’t have him, then — then nothing, I have nothing, I _am_ nothing, so please, we have to get him back—”

“I keep forgetting, he hasn’t been doing this for long. Poor guy…” Wade’s voice sounded too far away. Matt stepped backwards and fell against the chair. The scrape of thin metal legs on the floor hurt his ears.

But Peter’s hands clamped down his shoulders and steadied him. Peter was short and lean but his grip was like iron, Matt couldn’t have wrestled out of it if he tried.

“Listen to me, we’re going to fix this. But we need to get out of here. If people find out what we’re talking about, it spells bad news for all of us. Not just us. But the people we care about. Okay?”

At last, he could breathe again. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine, I’m good. Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

They took a cab back to Matt’s apartment. They locked themselves in and sat on the couch. Despite their obvious concern, Peter and Wade were eerily calm. But then, as Wade had said, they’d been vigilantes for longer than Matt.

It still didn’t feel right to sit here and do nothing. But Peter explained about Arcade.

“Edward Arcade is a showman. He plays sick games on people, but they’re games of chance. He might throw in a trick to befuddle you, but you always have a chance of winning, even if it’s just a tiny chance. Wade and I have outsmarted him before. And he thinks it’s fun, dragging the game out for as long as possible. It’s no fun otherwise. So, what we have to do is — sit and wait for another message. More clues.”

“So, we’re battling an evil Willy Wonka?” Matt spat, and Wade laughed.

“I never trusted that guy. What kind of man invites a child to live with him? And I don’t think he treated the Oompa-Loompas very well.”

“Wade, focus! We need to figure out who he has. Let’s make some calls. I’ll call my friends, Wade will call his, and you call yours. Once we have everybody accounted for, whoever is MIA is the victim.”

“Don’t—” Matt shuddered. “Don’t say _victim._ Sounds...defeatist.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s get on with this.”

* * *

So, they did. Matt called Foggy. It went to voicemail. He’d been expecting it but he still was seized with the desire to fling his phone at the wall.

He could hear Peter and Wade in the adjoining rooms, calling their friends. They seemed to have more people to call than him.

Peter was currently on the phone with a woman called MJ, begging her to go stay with his Aunt May and lock the doors. He said he’d send his friend Johnny to protect her, whatever that meant.

Wade was arguing with an old woman called Al. Al seemed unbothered by Wade’s profanity and she was giving as good as she got. Matt decided he liked her.

He called Karen and thank God, she answered. She confessed that she was with Castle.

“Great!” Matt said, to her surprise. “Stay with him. And try calling Foggy. If you manage to get a hold of him, call me, okay? Don’t leave Frank’s side for a second.”“Matt? What’s happened?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later. I just need you to keep yourself safe. I’ll call you when I can.”

There. That would do for now. He didn’t think Arcade had captured Father Lantom. And...that was it. There was nobody else. Karen and Frank were safe, Stick could handle himself and besides, Matt currently possessed no way of reaching him — not that he’d want to. But Foggy. Where the hell was Foggy?

“Can’t get a hold of Weasel,” Wade said, joining Matt on the couch. “He could be off his tits right now. That’s pretty likely. He could be getting laid. That’s a lot more unlikely. But between us girls, I think Arcade has him.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Nah, it’s fine. He’s just — just a dumbass with a shitty bar. No biggie. Did you get a hold of your guy, what’s his name?”

“Foggy. No. Can’t reach him.”

“Damn. Hey, Webs? How did it go?”

“MJ and May are accounted for. Johnny Storm is fine, he texted me. I tried calling Jameson, then I tried his secretary. They said he left the office abruptly earlier this morning. I don’t have work today, so I wasn’t there. No clue where he is.”

“It could be him, then. I’m sorry, man.”

Peter sighed and perched on the arm of the couch. “I hate that this creep has taken somebody. An innocent life. But if I’m honest, I’m relieved they might have taken Jameson. I know that makes me sound like a monster. Jameson’s not a bad guy. He’s hardworking, he gave me a job when nobody else would. He has his reasons for hating Spider-Man. He interviewed me once, you know! I was in the mask. He doesn’t know his wimpy photographer is Spider-Man. He’s not a bad guy. Grumpy. Rude at times. But not a bad person.”

“But?”

“But I’m so relieved Arcade didn’t take Johnny or MJ. Or my aunt! I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.”

“I know what you mean.” Wade agreed. Matt wanted to punch both of them.

“Your bartender. Your boss. Not the same thing. You haven’t lost anything. You can find a new bar or a job. I can’t find another him. It’s not comparable.”

“Hey!” Wade said heatedly. “I know you’re freaking out, but you don’t get to talk like that. We’re your friends and we’re in this shit with you. So, stop crawling up our asses, okay?”

“You’re right. I’m — I shouldn’t have—” 

“Hey, forget it. It’s all good.”

“Matt?” Peter said hesitantly, “Can I borrow a shirt? If we’re going to be searching for the missing person, I need a disguise. I left my Spider-Man suit at home—”

“Oh, yeah, knock yourself out. I should get suited up, too. Wade, do you want some clothes?”

“Pass.”

* * *

Matt felt stronger when he was Daredevil. The cowl covered most of his face, eliminating his need to wear sunglasses. And the suit was moulded to his body, designed to work with him, not against him, in fights. He ran his fingers over the kevlar. This was a man who could save Foggy. Matt Murdock was useless. Paralysed with fear. But Daredevil wouldn’t hesitate.

Peter grabbed one of Matt’s old shirts and cut eyeholes in it. “Ugh, this feels unprofessional. Oh, sorry.”

“Peter, have you ever — has somebody ever tried to kidnap somebody you cared about? In the past?”

“Yeah. This guy, Chameleon, he tried to hold my friend, well, she was actually my girlfriend at the time. MJ. But she was fine. She was safe. And Arcade dropped me in Murderworld. His fatal theme park. But Wade joined me and we escaped.”

“You guys are tight.”

“Yeah. We’re close. Wasn’t always like that, we hated each other at first. But you’re one of us, now. And Matt? We’ll get Foggy back, if he’s the one who got taken. I swear.”

“Thank you. Thanks — thank you—”

He knew Peter was about to hug him, could hear him gearing up for it, but it didn’t occur to him to duck away. Was this selfish? Accepting comfort from a friend, while Foggy could be out there in mortal peril?

As Peter hugged him and clapped him on the back, Matt made a vow. When he got Foggy back, he was going to tell him everything. No more secrets or lies. No hidden feelings.

* * *

“Once we get another clue, we’ll start a hunt. Right now, it would be too hard. Arcade’s current location is unknown and he’s got so much money to burn. He could be miles away. He could be out of the country. But when we get some more information, we can actually accomplish something,” Peter said wearily.

“Spoken like somebody who’s done this before,”

“Well, you know how it is. You throw on a mask and punch a few bad guys, and suddenly, it’s like you can’t walk down the street without—"

_“Stuck in the middle with you!"_

“I changed my ringtone,” Wade said. He grabbed the phone.

“Who even has a ringtone now? And for texts? You’re such an old guy.” Peter said.

Arcade’s repulsive, smug voice echoed in the sparse room. “Hello again, my dear three friends. By now, you probably have attempted to locate your remaining compatriots and ascertain who has been stolen. Very smart, boys. But consider this — did you ever exert this much energy on making sure your friend was happy and safe, before? Or was he merely an afterthought, a plaything that you could pick up and then discord once you had better, shinier toys. Something for you to ponder. I said I would give you another clue, and so I shall deliver. The second clue is that your friend could be described as soft. Cuddly. Lovable. Goodbye for now.”

There was a long moment of silence after the video ended. 

Finally, Wade spoke.

“It’s not Weasel, then. He's not lovable, he's a little shit. And it can't be Cable. He ain't soft. He’s got a body like a pornstar. Seriously, you could bounce a quarter off that ass. No offence, Pete.”

“Uh, none taken? Yeah, I’m not sure soft and lovable would refer to J Jonah.”

“Which means—”

“Foggy. He’s got Foggy. Oh God, he’s got Foggy.”

“Hey, come on, big guy. Deep breaths. Remember your ninja training— “

“Fuck you. They’ve got him. I was supposed to keep him safe and they’ve fucki— they’ve—” 

“We all knew the risk, we knew that becoming vigilantes would put our loved ones at risk. And Foggy knew the risk, being friends with you, but he made the choice to stay.”

“Not helping, Jerry Springer,” Wade hissed. “He’s bugging out. Hold him down or something.”

“I’m not touching him! What if he hits me?”

“Oh, you can’t take a hit? The Amazing Spider-Man is scared of a little ninja? Don’t you have super-strength?”

“For goodness sake, just because you _can_ do something, it doesn’t mean you _should._ What we need to do with Matt is—”

“I’m still here, idiots,” Matt snapped. “They’ve got my — they've got Foggy and who do I have to help me? Not The Avengers, not The Fantastic Four. No, I have Roger and Jessica Rabbit.”

Wade and Peter traded glances. “Wait, which one of us is Jessica Rabbit and which one is—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Matt snarled. “You're going to help me. Now. We’re going to find Foggy. Come on,”

They hustled out of there, jogging after him.

"I hope we don't need to fight anybody, this is a new shirt, so—”

“Hurry up!” Matt roared, way ahead of them.

“He’s a little sprinter, isn’t he?” Wade puffed, running flat out after the man. “Small but packed with energy.”

Peter ran along, effortlessly keeping in Wade’s stride. “His friend’s in a box somewhere, you’d run too—”

* * *

They reached an apartment block tucked away in some side street in Hell’s Kitchen. Matt barreled ahead and unlocked the door with a key he took from his side pocket. He flew up the stairs, Peter and Wade at his heels. When he led them into the apartment, he darted into another room.

“Look for clues!”

“Clues? What the fuck are we supposed to be looking for?”

“Wade, look.” Peter had picked up a framed photo from a cabinet. He held it up. It showed two people, Matt and a chubby guy in an ugly suit. They were both smiling widely, seeming to be absolutely ecstatic, sitting together in what looked like a dive bar.

“So, that’s the famous Foggy, huh?”

Matt reappeared, holding a blue pyjama shirt. “This is Foggy's apartment. I’ve been going about this all wrong. I was relying on you two. I forgot to use my senses.” With that, he raised the shirt to his face and took a deep sniff.

“Whoa, man,” Wade said. Matt lowered the crumpled wad of fabric, looking quizzical. “I know you miss the guy, but you don’t need to go doing all that creepy shit.”

“I’m trying to get his scent! The trail might be cold by now, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

“I guess…”

Matt took a few deep lungfuls that were all kinds of cringy. But Peter apparently trusted his judgment, therefore, Wade did, too.

* * *

They ran out, on the hunt. By now, it was evening and the cool air was pleasant on their flushed faces. Matt twisted his face this way and that, sniffing obnoxiously, trying to catch Foggy's scent. He led them through several streets, sometimes double-backing, and Wade was about to tell him that this was obviously a wild shot in the dark and they should give up, when Matt suddenly stopped and froze like a deer in the headlights.

“Foggy,”

Wade twisted around to look. “Where?”

“No — just — Foggy. Caught his scent just now. In the breeze.”

“Webs, we gotta move—” 

Matt ran flat-out, Wade and Peter sprinting after him.

He was guided by his nose, tripping over loose paving stones, and over people’s feet. He fell, stumbled, hit a brick wall. “Fuck. Gotta — Foggy, it’s—”

“Where’s he taking us?”

“Fuck knows.” Wade gasped. He wasn’t much of a runner, he relied more on his brawn. He pelted after them, up some side streets and down a few alleys, a circuitous route that took them leaping over trash bags and over low walls.

Finally, he led them to— 

“24 Hour Laundromat?” Wade said.

Matt bolted in, a line of scarlet, and Peter and Wade followed him. There was only one customer there, a guy sitting on a faded wooden bench. He had his back to them.

Matt made a beeline for him. Wade recognised him from the photograph. Yeah, this was the guy.

“Foggy!”

“Uh… Daredevil, what are you doing here?” Foggy’s gaze flicked to Peter and Wade. “Um, sorry, who are you guys?”

“Oh, come on, this is bullshit! I’m Deadpool! You gotta recognise me, I was in movies. You _know_ I’m Deadpool! I think we’ve made out in a couple of fics. This is ridic!” 

“Uh, Wade? Why don’t we give DD and his friend a couple of minutes, yeah?”

* * *

Matt and Foggy sat on the bench together, as the other two guys busied themselves with reading the labels of the detergent packets.

“Your...friends seem nice?”

“My little band of idiots. They’re alright. In small doses. Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you!”

“Oh, yeah. See, about that…”

And Foggy told him the story of how he’d woken up to a wet pillow. He’d sat up, realising that his whole bed was sodden. It transpired that his upstairs neighbour had left their bath on and it had flooded the room and it had dripped down to his room. 

“All my stuff is soaked! Luckily, my landlord’s sorting it out. Won't affect the deposit. But I didn’t want my clothes to get mouldy, so I just bundled a bunch of stuff in a bag and hauled it to the laundromat.”

“Why didn’t you tell me what happened?”

“Why bother? You can’t fix it. I figured I’d tell you when I next saw you. Anyway, I’m currently without a phone. My cell was on my nightstand and my whole bedroom looks like it got hit with a tidal wave. My phone is waterlogged. Probably have to get a new one.”

“You should have told me,” Matt said quietly. “I’ve been — it’s — Foggy —”

“Oh, hey,” Foggy squeaked, for Matt had just thrown his arms around him. “We probably shouldn’t hug while you’re in DD-mode. Oh, what the hell!” He hugged him back. 

“Guys, this is great and all, but we still have a body to find,” Wade said, folding his arms.

Foggy stared at them all. “A _what?”_ he said.

* * *

They left the clothes in the dryer as they got him up to speed on everything that had occurred.

“So, evil Willy Wonka has got one of your buddies buried alive in a box somewhere? And you’re losing time in a laundromat with me? We gotta go!”

“Show him the coffin picture,” Peter said. Wade had received a photo of a coffin while Matt was speaking to Foggy.

“Huh. That’s terrible, I’m so sorry. So, if the evil dude didn’t kidnap me — who did he take?”

Matt ducked his head. “We...don’t know.”

“Hornhead was so freaked at the prospect of losing you, he went completely bananas and screwed our mission.”

Foggy immediately softened. “Oh, that’s really—”

_“Stuck in the middle with you”_

All three vigilantes tensed, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Foggy. “Is that him?”

Deadpool checked the screen. “Another photo. There’s grass. Flowers. Are they in a field?”

Spider-Man took the phone. “Don’t recognise it.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll be much use,” Matt said bitterly. “Foggy, take a look?”

Foggy hemmed and hawed but he did as he was asked, peeking over Spider-Man’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s — that’s DeWitt Park. It’s in Clinton, it’s close.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“I think so?”

“We gotta get over there,” Wade said. “Let’s take the rooftops. Come on, gang, Foggy, you can give us directions.”

Foggy spluttered. “Wait, no, I can’t—”

“Sorry, Mr. Nelson,” Spider-Man said, throwing him over his shoulder. Foggy kicked and flailed around but it was like being carried by King Kong.

* * *

The journey to the park was terrifying. Deadpool and Matt effortlessly bounded along in Spider-Man’s wake, leaping across rooftops fearlessly. Foggy was piggybacking on Spider-Man’s back, his arms locked around the hero’s neck. He wasn’t sure why Spider-Man was wearing one of Matt’s old shirts from college wrapped around his face, but he didn’t question it. Spider-Man wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t wearing the iconic costume, he was in a t-shirt and jeans. He was of average height. But he felt as solid as a wooden door and unshakeable. He easily took Foggy’s weight, as if he was carrying nothing more than a light bag on his back.

Spider-Man didn’t have that weird, goopy web stuff that Foggy used to see stuck to skyscrapers on the news. Instead, he scaled up walls on the tips of his fingers. There was no way to accurately describe the feeling of travelling like this, clinging to the mutate’s back as he scrambled along like some crazed animal. The wind rushed through Foggy’s hair, making his eyes water, cooling his skin. The buildings were eye-level, the cars below looked like the toy ones he played with as a little boy. The people were ants. It was humbling. Beautiful. Was this what Spider-Man? He could see why he loved it.

Finally, Foggy caught sight of the trees and he tapped Spider-Man’s chest. He felt Spidey nod. Spider-Man slowly climbed down, more cautious now. They were stuck to an apartment block and he could see in the windows. Furniture and paintings on the walls. Normal people who weren’t friends with superpowered vigilantes. Normal people whose biggest problems were what they were going to have for dinner that night...

Spider-Man stuck one foot on the sidewalk and Foggy instantly let go of him. The ride had been exhilarating but he was glad to be back on solid ground.

“Were we seen?”

“It’s evening, it’s dark, nobody’s watching us,” Wade said. “Let’s go find our missing friend, whoever they are.”

“I just hope Arcade gave them plenty of oxygen,” Spider-Man said.

* * *

DeWitt park was nice, but Foggy hadn't been there in a while. He used to go there and toss around a baseball with Theo. Matt was in the lead, sniffing the air like a man possessed, trying to pinpoint the recently-dug grave.

“I can smell fresh dirt!” Matt yelled, tearing across the grounds to the baseball court. “I’m not picking up a heartbeat though!”

Shit,” Deadpool growled.

Matt reached the patch of dirt first, and he threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to the sod. “Nothing!”

“I’ll look for a shovel or something, hang on.” Spider-Man dashed off.

Deadpool and Foggy dropped to their knees beside him and all three men pawed feverishly at the dirt, scrabbling with their fingernails, tearing out chunks of earth with their bare hands.

Foggy’s arms immediately protested, he wasn’t equipped to work so strenuously but he kept at it, the muscles in his arms burning. The sun had set and he could barely see his own pale hands in the gloom.

Spider-Man ran back, carrying something long. “Found a shovel in this shed thing—”

He dug into the ground and the other guys scuttled back. Spider-Man dug harder and faster than a normal human and soon, his blade hit something solid. “Gotcha.”

They sifted through the earth, uncovering a smooth oak panel. “Sir!” Foggy yelled. “Or ma’am! We’re getting you out of there, okay? Just hang on and keep breathing!”

“Uh, guys—” Matt said.

“Not now!”

Spider-Man pried his shovel blade into the hinged side of the coffin and heaved. The shovel cracked but the coffin door came off. Foggy squinted in the darkness. It was—

“Empty! How can — there’s nothing there!”

“Wait a minute,” Deadpool said grimly, reaching into the silken depths of the interior. “Is this your card?”

They all eyed the strange, small item in his hands.

Foggy lacked spider vision and Matt’s weird sonar shit, so he had to squint. He wasn’t sure what it was at first. It was furry. Dark-green. _Oh._

“Wait a minute! That’s mine!” Spider-Man yelled. 

It was a plushy! A green, furry plushy of the Incredible Hulk, it looked like. Yup, he recognised the snarling face that glowered up from the front pages of the newspapers.

Spider-Man fidgeted with his makeshift mask. “I lost that thing weeks ago! It got a tear in it, so I was taking it to get repaired. I put it in my backpack and went on patrol. But when I was fighting some robbers last week, my backpack came open and it must have fallen out.”

“I guess somebody took it. An item owned by Spider-Man, that makes it valuable. Maybe they wanted to scrape your DNA off it or something,” Deadpool said. “So, they could use it to figure out Spider-Man’s true identity.”

“My _DNA?_ What do you think I’ve been doing to the Hulk?”

“Hey, man, what goes on between a consenting adult and his stuffed toy is nobody’s business but his own!”

“So, we did it? We can go now?” Matt snapped. “We wasted hours on a wild goose chase!”

“Yeah, but we saved an innocent plushy!”

As they headed out, Spider-Man sighed. “I can’t believe Arcade played us like that. We knew him, we’ve met him before, we know he’s nuts. Burying a toy in a coffin is exactly the kind of stunt he’d pull. What was it he said? A soft, cuddly, lovable companion. We should have known he wasn't talking about a person."

Foggy frowned. Was that what Arcade had said? It was strange that Matt had heard that clue and assumed that he, Foggy, was the one they were looking for.

“We bungled the whole thing,” Matt said gloomily. “If he _had_ abducted a person, they would have asphyxiated ages ago.”

“Aw, Webs, Hornhead’s sulking!”

“Nah, he’s just hungry,” Foggy told them. “He’ll perk up once he gets some food in him. Tell you what, let’s go back to mine. We need to get cleaned up, we look like gravediggers. Come on, I’ll buy you a pizza.”

“Whoo! Pizza!” Deadpool whooped. “So, Nelson, how did you and Matty-boy meet, anyway?”

“It’s a funny story, actually…”

* * *

Foggy ended up having to order several pizzas. Apparently, Spider-Man and Deadpool both had healing powers and this meant that they burnt calories at an abnormally fast rate and required more food than the average human. Foggy wished he had an excuse like that to chow down.

He nudged Matt. "Why don't you have healing powers? I'm sick of seeing you with a faceful of bruises."

Matt just snorted.

Deadpool got another phone call and everybody tensed, but he said it was fine. He disappeared for a few minutes and when he came back, he threw himself down on the couch and sighed dramatically. 

"Just got off the phone with Weasel! He was passed out drunk, had a wicked hangover, didn’t see the need to respond to my fifty fucking phone calls! Called it. I said he was off his tits. Didn’t I call it?”

“Yeah, you called it.”

Spidey was about to reply, but his phone belted out a tune. “Oh, for goodness sake!”

Wade peered over at the screen. “Is that your boss?”

Spider-Man sighed, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yes, sir. Okay. I know. I’m sorry. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh? Yeah, okay. Okay, goodb — yes, sir, yes, goodbye, sir.”

“Aw, you sound so sweet on the phone.”

“Shut up. So yeah, that was my boss, Jameson. Apparently, he had to take a personal day. He’s fine. And he’s mad at me for calling him a bunch of times. Ugh, why was I so worried? Arcade wouldn’t nab him. He’d yell at Arcade so much, the poor guy’s guts would curdle up.”

"So, everybody's fine and we've got pizza!" Wade stole a slice of ham and mushroom from Matt's plate. "Maybe it's the optimist in me but I'd say this has been a pretty good day!"


End file.
